


Happiness

by SqueeneyTodd



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-14
Updated: 2015-11-14
Packaged: 2018-05-01 13:05:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5206955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SqueeneyTodd/pseuds/SqueeneyTodd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frisk tries talking to Sans and Toriel about something that is painfully obvious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happiness

**Author's Note:**

> tbh i dont feel the most common fan interpretations for soriel stuff so  
> ye  
> there it is  
> i guess it kind of takes place in the middle of my Adjustment series but it doesn't really match the theme of it so  
> Edit: I changed a little part closer to the end because it felt like it needed somethin, have fun and thanks for the feedback

“Sure, why not?”

To be honest, Frisk had expected a less straight-forward answer-more dodging the subject or changing it altogether. They hadn’t expected an outright confirmation, especially one so… casual. People in general aren’t very forthcoming with romantic confessions, and Sans, as Papyrus once said, doesn’t tell anybody anything.

“What’s with that look? Did you expect something different?” The same smile was plastered on his face like always.  Frisk nodded. Sans waved his hotdog in front of Frisk’s face. “Sorry to disappoint, kid. I’ll try being less _frank_ next time.” That earned him a squinty grimace. Silence sat between them for a few minutes as Frisk debated their next move. Sans was aware of his own feelings for Toriel and didn’t bother to argue about it-Frisk had not anticipated this at all. 

“Welp, if that’s all you had to ask, then I guess we’re done, buddy.” Sans’ voice came from the doorway behind Frisk. They grabbed Sans’ jacket and stared at him, brows furrowed in determination. No escape from this situation. “What, you got more to say? Why didn’t you say so? I moved for nothin’.”

   ->Why haven’t you told her?

 Sans looked thoughtful for a moment, then shrugged. “Kid, I dunno what you’re playing at. There’s nothin’ to tell.” An unmoving stare. “It’s nothing she needs to know about.” Frisk’s hand was steady on his jacket. “No need to complicate things.”

   ->What’s complicated about it?

“Kid, there’s this thing called ‘baggage’. Everyone has it, and I don’t feel like makin’ her deal with mine.” His tone was unchanged, cool and nonchalant as always.

   ->She would want to help.

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her, and I’m happy enough just makin’ her laugh as it is.”

   ->. . .

“She also probably has higher standards than a _punny_   skeleton a head shorter than her.”

   ->Maybe she's into that.

Just another shrug and a smile. The child’s head dropped down in dejection. Sans sighed and scratched the back of his skull. “You want us all to be happy, and that’s great, buddo. You’re a determined kid.” Frisk’s grip loosened as Sans ruffled their hair. “But, sometimes, it’s best to just do nothin’ and call it a day.” He was gone by the time Frisk raised their head.

Perhaps Toriel would be more reasonable about the whole thing.

 

* * *

 

Frisk was two seconds from tearing their hair out. What was with adults and “baggage”?

“Please do not give me that look, Frisk. I know you mean well, but with my own problems and past experience, I just… it would be unfair to lay those on anyone else’s shoulders, much less Sans’. He would be unhappy in that situation, I’m sure of it.” Toriel turned her back and Frisk and placed the pie into the oven.

   ->Maybe he has stuff he wants to talk about.

“Then I would be glad to listen to anything he has to say, if he ever feels like saying it to me. It does not mean he needs to deal with my problems.”

It was the same story with both of them, wasn’t it?

“Besides…”

What was it with them and-

“I cannot imagine _anyone_ being interested in an old lady like myself.”

 -selling themselves short?

   ->You always say that.

Toriel just smiled and went to wash her hands in the kitchen sink.

   ->You’re really pretty, mom.

“Well, thank you, Frisk. That is very sweet of you,” she said, drying her hands on her apron and giving Frisk’s cheek a quick pinch. Frisk gripped the countertop they were sitting on.

   ->Does he make you happy?

This made Toriel pause. A sort of resigned smile pulled at the ends of her mouth, and she smoothed Frisk’s hair a bit before kissing them on the forehead. “Yes, my child, and he always has. I am very lucky to have had his friendship in times when I needed it most, and I hope that I have been a source of happiness for him as well.” Frowning, Frisk wrapped their arms as far around Toriel as they could reach and pulled her into a tight hug. It was returned; Toriel sighed.

   ->I want everyone to be as happy as possible.

“And we are all living happily on the surface because of it.” She nuzzled Frisk’s cheek and squeezed them hard.

   ->. . .

Frisk couldn’t think of any conversation topics, and so they waited silently for the pie to finish baking.

 

* * *

 

The conversation had bothered Toriel for the rest of the evening. Had Frisk spoken to Sans about this as well? She hoped not, even though she knew that Sans wouldn’t let such a thing create any awkwardness between them. Any strange behavior would most likely come from her, if she let that topic occupy her thoughts too much.

It wasn’t as if she hadn’t thought about it. A grown woman of so many years, one who had already been through one marriage, would know her own feelings when she experienced them. Yes, of course he made her happy, she had confessed to her child, but there was something else beyond that. It was the same feeling, the one that came after all those conversations through the door, deep in the woods of the underground.

With him, Toriel was content. Whether they were watching their favorite human comedy sketch show or sharing the living room in silence, she felt relaxed. He had a noticeable habit of falling asleep on the couch while she was reading in her chair, and she found that she was fine with it, snores and all. More than fine, really. Sure, there were times when he wasn’t as restful-everyone has bad dreams, she supposed. In those times, she would wake him with a gentle shake of the shoulder, and all would be well. He would smile lazily, waving his hand in a reassuring manner before going back to sleep. Sometimes he would slip a quick joke in, just to ease that worried expression on her face.

Sometimes the books she was reading would end up face-down on her lap as Toriel fell fast asleep in her chair. The combined snoring was unbearable to all who witnessed it. Overall, it was a wonderful time. She just didn’t want it to end because of something as silly as this.

It would not be brought up by her. It would blow over and everything would be fine. 

* * *

 

"Hey Tori, can I ask you something?"

 _Oh dear._ "Of course, what is it?"

They had just started watching that human comedy show Sans had discovered late one night, both of them sitting on the couch as the humans were introduced to the audience. A game involving comically large objects seemed to be the first order of the night.

"Did Frisk talk to you about anything earlier today?"

Well, that was it, then. 

"Yes, they did." At least having fur made her warming face less noticeable. There was no skirting around the subject. "I assume that means they spoke to you as well about it." Two of the humans on the screen were wearing very big hats made of craft foam. She very much wanted to laugh and be done with this. Neither of them spoke for a moment.

"Look, Tori," Sans began and then stopped. He scratched the side of his face, not turning his head to look at her. He kept his eyes on the screen, unfocused and unblinking. 

"Sans." His head whipped around at the firm tone in her voice. "I would like to be honest with you, if you're willing to be the same with me." He nodded, resting his elbows on his knees, waiting. Nothing about him gave away any discomfort, making it a bit easier to speak. "As you know, Frisk spoke to us both about the possibility of a... _romantic_ relationship between the two of us." He nodded again, slowly. "I have always enjoyed having you as my friend, Sans. You know that." He let out some air.

"Tori-" She shook her head, holding up a hand in the air. He let her continue.

" _However_ , I would be lying if I said I had not thought about it." She paused, not daring to look back at his face again. Instead, she let both hands fold onto her lap and stared at them instead. Boisterous laughter sounded from the television. "You make me happy, and I know that I can trust you with just about anything, and there are so many things that I wish I could speak up about but never do because I worry that I am making a burden of myself." The torrent of words surprised her, and she desperately clenched her hands to regain control. "I don't expect you to see an old lady like myself as anything but a friend, and if you want we can forget this whole thing." It felt like an eternity before she felt Sans shift closer to her. Over the audience, she heard him laugh.

"You really do sell yourself short," he remarked, grabbing her hand off her lap and resting both of their hands between them. "And if you think I have low standards for saying that, remember: you're the one who likes a skeleton." There was an energy in his voice that reminded her of everyone's first night on the surface; to see the sky in that way, what an experience it was for him back then! It took her a moment to digest what had happened in the last few seconds; then, she laughed as well, letting herself relax into the couch and pressing a free hand to her face. "And for the record, ever since we started talking, I always thought you were a- _door_ -able." His smile grew inexplicably wider as her laughter filled the room. Who knows how long he had been waiting to use that one.

* * *

 

Papyrus lay peacefully in his bed, until a terrible feeling shot through him- almost like a premonition.

The puns that already haunted his existence would never stop, and, somehow, they were about to get about ten times worse and a hundred times more disgustingly cute.

He pressed his face into the pillow and screamed just as Sans finished that last syllable.

* * *

 

Frisk looked at the newly-formed couple with satisfaction. More happiness has been achieved. It fills Frisk with Determination.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading through my garbage


End file.
